


Quiet Interludes

by inelegantly (Lir)



Series: SASO 2016 Fills [1]
Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F, Ficlet Collection, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7254196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lir/pseuds/inelegantly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of otherwise unrelated short fics written from prompts posted during the 2016 Sports Anime Shipping Olympics. Pairing and character tags will be added as necessary.</p><p><b>Chapter 11:</b> Maki/Hanayo, Onigiri<br/><b>Chapter 12:</b> Eli/Maki, Duet<br/><b>Chapter 13:</b> Maki/Rin/Hanayo, Carrying<br/><b>Chapter 14:</b> Nozomi/Nico, Conquer the World</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maki/Hanayo :: Experimental Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> As this is a collection of wildly varying, not-interconnected short fics, I want to make it as reader-friendly as possible. Each chapter will be titled with the rating, pairing or characters involved, and a short individual title indicative of its contents. The primary summary for the collection will also be updated with this information as new chapters are added.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was: _"Remember when they kissed, just to see what it was like?"_

* * *

"It's not done yet," Maki says, even as Hanayo is pressing the earbuds into her ears.

She holds the MP3 player tightly in her hand, thumb poised above the button to play the next track, eyes tracking across Hanayo's face in search of a sign. Hanayo smiles at her, softly, and Maki lets the music start. 

Part of her wants to move away, to insert distance between herself and this thing she's created. It _isn't_ done yet, is only the first arrangement for a new song she's been working on for mu's. Ordinarily she'd present such an offering to Umi, in hopes that the older girl might have some lyrics in the works which they could begin to pair with her melodies. This arrangement isn't at that point yet. 

She wants to move away, but the cord of the headphones keeps her tethered to Hanayo, almost near enough to hear the tinkling of the piano keys overflowing past Hanayo's ears. Hanayo's eyes drift nearly-closed in concentration, listening closely for the entire length of the track. 

"It's lovely," Hanayo says, as Maki plucks the earbuds out of her ears. 

There's a denial on her tongue, more insistence that it's only the first arrangement, that there are still so many things she will need to change. She only wanted a first opinion, someone to tell her that the song is on the right track. But all of those words die when Hanayo glances up at her, no more space between them than the length of an audio cord. 

"Thank you," Maki says, manners overriding the momentary lapse in her thinking. Her eyes hold Hanayo's gaze, watching her face, softening at the sight of her lingering smile. "Can I...?" 

She knows what she means to say, but it's ridiculous. The words catch in her throat, self-conscious and too large to be pushed past her tongue. She wants to kiss Hanayo, but she cannot say why. It's simply there, that feeling, a strange curiosity — her heartbeat speeding as a small part of her contemplates whether kissing might be soft, if it's with her gentle, shy friend, who never has anything but a kind word to say about anyone. 

"Maki-chan...?" Hanayo starts to say, the question seeping into her voice. 

Maki cannot say, her gaze pulling away to be cast across the room, staring at something distant while she reaches for her composure. One hand comes up to twist fingers into her hair, twining a single curl of it around and around in nervous distraction. Hanayo reaches out, the motion visible only from the corner of Maki's eyes, and wraps her hand around Maki's hand to still it. 

"It's a very good song," she says, her voice low, convicted, placing the whole of her belief in her words. "I liked it a lot, and you don't need to be nervous about sharing it with the rest of mu's." 

"I'm n-not nervous," Maki insists, breathing in sharp and attempting to ignore the way her voice breaks on the lie. 

It's only somewhat a lie — she isn't nervous about the song, not any more. She's nervous about the words caught in her throat, about the way simply _asking_ for things always strikes her as difficult — not like it is for Honoka, their fearless leader, or for Rin, always able to barrel ahead with little concern for what anyone else will think. Maki admires that about them, wonders sometimes how she might take a little of that for herself. 

Maybe the only way to take it is — to grasp it, she thinks, as she pushes her nerves down and once again looks Hanayo directly in her soft, slightly concerned face. 

"I wanted to kiss you," she says, and all at once her cheeks are burning and she wants to take the words back.

Hanayo makes a little sound, a gasp of surprise that's muffled in her mouth, but her expression only softens further. She seems... Less surprised than Maki would have thought, and the possibility that perhaps she was so transparent as to be _obvious_ in her thoughts fills her with another wash of dread. 

"It's okay," Hanayo says, voice still soft, but with that same conviction she gets when she's telling herself to be brave. "I d-don't mind." 

"It was a silly thing to ask," Maki insists, hardly hearing her. "I only wanted to see what it would be like, with you. I shouldn't have done." 

But then she feels Hanayo's fingertips at her wrist, brushing against the back of her hand, pulling it down from where Maki is pushing at her hair just to smother her embarrassment. She smiles, like sunrise and dawn break, and Maki thinks, if she's made it this far, she really ought to _know._

"O-Okay," she says, trying to sound more certain than she is. "Let me... Just..." 

She leans in, the headphones still grasped in her hand, her fingertips brushing along the side of Hanayo's face. Hanayo keeps her eyes open in that moment, so Maki is the one to close hers, letting her eyelashes flutter down as her lips brush against Hanayo's lips, butterfly-light and only a little uncertain. 

It's soft, just as she'd thought, when Hanayo kisses her back. The motion of her mouth is subtle, gentle, and Maki wonders what it was she'd been so worried about. She can trust Hanayo with her rough arrangements and her new songs; she can trust Hanayo with this, with her inexperience and with a little piece of her heart.

* * *  
* *  
*


	2. Maki/Rin/Hanayo :: Graduation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was: _"Remember when Maki, Rin, and Hanayo graduated from Otonokizaka?"_

* * *

"Maki-chan!" Rin calls out, dashing across the lawn in her robe and tossing her cap again into the air. She throws her arms around Maki's neck, hugging her tightly and spinning them both around. Maki hears, but doesn't see, the soft thud of impact when Rin's cap hits the ground.

"I thought we already did that," she jokes, her hands coming up to pat awkwardly at Rin's back. 

Even after three years of high school, Rin is too much a force of nature for Maki to know quite where to hold on. She doesn't have to for long — Rin gives her one last squeeze, and pulls back, opening up Maki's view enough for her to see Rin's parents off to one side, and Hanayo taking the last couple steps to stand alongside her. 

"Your speech was really good!" Rin says. "I didn't realize you could write something like that, Maki-chan, why didn't you tell me?" 

Maki laughs, a little self-consciously, and ducks her head. It was easier than she'd expected, standing on that stage in front of their entire graduating class, in front of all the students in the two years below them as well. She's had a lot of practice, standing on stages — but not for years, not for long enough that it feels a little bit rusty. 

It feels different from performing with mu's, standing alone with only her homeroom teacher and director Minami behind her, but it also felt... Powerful, like the words she'd prepared were something that desperately needed to be said, were something only _she_ could tell all the waiting faces that were anticipating her speech. 

She couldn't have done that, back in her first year. Perhaps that's what it's like, growing up, doing things that were beyond you before. 

"It was," Hanayo adds, her hands squeezing in front of her with the force of her conviction. "Nobody else could have said those things like you did." 

"Thank you," Maki says. She can't help but fidget a little, though her gratitude is sincere. 

"We did it!" Rin continues, her enthusiasm again picking up. "We graduated! Maki-chan, Kayo-chin, _we did it_!! And so many people came out to see us graduate... Look!" 

She throws an arm out toward the ranks of chairs arranged on the lawn, to the throngs of people standing around the edges of them and to the clusters of individuals who haven't yet risen from their seats. Maki remembers when she first came to Otonokizaka, as part of the smallest entering class in years. At the time, there had only been enough students in her year to fill one classroom... But thanks to her friends' efforts, enrollment had increased, and the number of chairs needed to seat everyone at graduation only served as proof of it. 

"We did do this," Maki says, staring out at the crowd. "We helped bring everyone together like this, didn't we?" 

She glances back toward Rin and Hanayo in time to see Rin's grin widen, in time to see the soft look that spreads across Hanayo's face along with her own little smile. 

"We really did make a difference," Hanayo agrees. "I don't think I'm ever going to forget it." 

"Me neither," Maki says. 

It sounds a little more serious than she'd intended, a little more final. For a moment she and Hanayo are both silent, acutely aware of the magnitude of the situation, of the fact that they've _graduated_ and that high school is suddenly a thing of the past, something they have put behind them. 

Then Rin throws her arms around both their shoulders, pulling Maki in from one side and Hanayo in from the other. She squeezes them tight, and laughs. 

"Of course we won't forget it," she says. "But the real question is, what are we going to do _next_?"

* * *  
* *  
*


	3. Eli/Umi :: Reunion Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was: _"Remember when Pokemon sponsored a tenth-year reunion of μ's, and they called the reformed group, "μ two"?"_

* * *

Umi is early. She isn't expecting anyone else to be in the studio they've booked for their first reunion practice. It's not that she doesn't trust Nintendo or Gamefreak (that's a lie, she doesn't), and it isn't as if the studio doesn't have a good reputation (she checked, thoroughly, wielding her web browser as a blade), but mostly, she'd wanted to get a feel for the facilities before anyone else arrived.

She catches one glimpse of a blonde head that has never ceased being familiar, and knows she shouldn't have tried.

"Eli," she says, her voice carrying across the room to where the other woman has knelt in lacing up her shoes. They're a few paces apart, but she can easily see the deft motions of Eli's fingers pulling at the strings, each motion decisive, efficient, utterly sure.

It hasn't been ten years since she's seen Eli; she hasn't allowed for so long a gap to pass between them. But it's been... Too long, between managing her dance studio and with how often Eli travels for her work. They keep up over the internet, or through the occasional phone call. They talk. They still know each other. It shouldn't be so different, seeing Eli in person after enough months have passed that Umi is abruptly stricken with guilt over her failures as a friend. 

It shouldn't be different, but as Eli rises from the floor, dressed in the sort of leotard that makes Umi imagine Eli has traveled back in time to her days as a ballerina, Umi can't help but think, _it most certainly is not the same._

"You're here," Eli says. 

Her voice is warm, the words more of a welcome than a question. They've known each other for ten years; Eli is more than familiar with Umi's punctuality. The fact that Eli knows her so well almost makes her smile. 

"Have you warmed up already?" Umi asks, with a glance to take in Eli's practice attire. "I wanted to see how the studio was, before it came time to practice in it." 

"Not yet," Eli says, and then her smile softens. "Although I was thinking about it, you're right. Have you seen the invitations for the performance?" 

Umi's mouth twists, curling into a frown she isn't quite quick enough to push down. She isn't certain how it had happened, sponsorship by Nintendo, the messages from Gamefreak. If she'd told her younger self that one day she'd be performing at a pokemon-themed event with mu's, she's certain she never would have believed it. 

"They're a little... Childish, don't you think?" she asks. 

Eli only smiles a little wider. "They are attention-getting, with those bright colors. And someone put a lot of effort into those illustrations for the cards." 

Umi feels her face flush, at the memory of the outfits mu's had been depicted in. "Don't you think we're a bit old for... For that kind of thing? Women our age shouldn't be wearing skirts like that, we should be setting a better example for the girls who come to see us than that." 

"A bit old?" Eli echoes, so that Umi flushes again, this time without quite knowing the reason for it. "I don't know about that. And it seems fitting, in a way, that it's pokemon sponsoring our event." 

"I don't know what you mean," Umi says. 

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Eli asks. Her lips twist, into that knowing sort of smile that makes Umi suspect she's being teased. "Pokemon appeals to everyone, from the youngest child just playing their first game, to the most loyal fans who have supported the company since the very first release. Pokemon fans are of all ages, living all kinds of different lives. Isn't that the same kind of audience we as mu's have wanted to reach with our music since the start?" 

"Oh," Umi says. "Yes." 

"Although I do admit," Eli continues, "the costumes seem a little silly. I'm glad it's Honoka wearing the mewtwo dress — I don't think I could pull that off. Honoka, though, Honoka will do it." 

Umi laughs, and relaxes. "Honoka can make anything look good simply by loving that she's wearing it." 

"Perhaps we should try and follow her example," Eli says, so that Umi coughs and glances away. "The rest of the costumes are cute, even if the skirts are a little short for your taste. It's too bad about the numbers. If we'd done this five years sooner, there wouldn't be those new eeveelutions for us to leave out." 

"You're a fan of the games?" Umi asks, before she can think better of it. The sound of the jargon seems strange, rolling off of Eli's tongue in particular. 

"They bring happiness to a lot of people," Eli says, with an unconcerned little shrug. "Who wouldn't be a fan of that?" 

"I guess I just... Wouldn't have thought," Umi says. "You never seemed like the type of person to play games." 

"Well," Eli says. "I'm glad that even after ten years, I'm still able to surprise you." 

Umi has no response to that, so she looks instead across the room, finally paying some mind to the space she'd told herself she wanted to check out. She's aware of Eli watching her, with that steady, undemanding gaze which hasn't changed a hair in the ten years since Umi first met her. Eli might be a merciless dance coach, but when it came to anything else she always was endlessly patient, able to solve any problem when given the time to work. It's something Umi has always liked about her. 

"Do you want to warm up?" Umi asks. "Since we do have some time before the others arrive?" 

"Would you like to dance with me?" Eli counters, her eyebrows going up. She holds out her hand, clearly making the invitation. "I certainly wouldn't mind." 

Umi takes it, accepting once it's through _doing_ that their reunion performance will turn out right.

* * *  
* *  
*


	4. Nico & Rin & Hanayo :: Arcade Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was: _"Remember when Nico begrudgingly (but not really) went to an arcade with Rin and Hanayo?"_

* * *

"Come on, Kayo-chin," Rin says, dragging her by the hand through the crowded arcade. There's a steady press of bodies milling around the machines but Rin has her resolve, cutting her way through the crowd with single-minded determination. "Play me at head to head."

Nico weaves after them, tempted to maintain a nonchalant distance but unable to do so lest she lose the trail Rin has blazed through the crowd. She knows how to throw her elbows with the best of them to clear herself a path, but if she had to _fight_ her way after her juniors, she really _might_ up and leave. 

It wasn't as if she was all that interested in this invitation to the arcade in the first place, after all. 

Rin comes to a stop, drawing up short before the dance machines. Other kids are already in place stomping the pads, but when Rin demands to know who's next, they learn that most of the crowd is there for the spectacle. Only a few other people are actively waiting; their turn will come soon enough. 

"Why did we have to come to _this_ arcade?" Nico asks, pushing her sunglasses down from her hair so that they drop into place on her nose. "It's way too crowded." 

"This is the arcade with the best machines," Rin says, shrugging as if that's obvious. 

Nico sighs the sigh of one long-suffering. Rin elbows her playfully in the ribs. "I bet you're just mad because I'm gonna play Kayo-chin first. You wanted to dance too, didn't you, huh, huh?" 

She keeps poking Nico, pointy little fingers stabbing repeatedly at her arms. Nico swats her away, or makes her best attempt. It isn't as if Rin's attention holds for long. She inevitably stops, her free hand reaching out for Hanayo and grasping the other girl's palm. They look like they belong together, heads bowed close and little smiles on their faces. 

Nico turns away, directing her attention toward the machine and the stream of arrows gliding across its screen. The boys playing before them aren't even using one of the harder difficulties. It's obvious from how slow the triggers are moving, and Nico can't help but roll her eyes. 

"Told you," Rin says from beside her. 

Nico huffs, an aggrieved sound dragged out from between her teeth. It's not that she's in a _hurry_ to get a turn on the machines, or anything. It's simply that if she's already there, in the arcade, she wants to make the most of her time. And she can most definitely show these clumsy boys how it's done.

"I don't mind if you go first, Nico-chan," Hanayo pipes up, glancing between Nico and the game. 

"I'm not in a hurry," Nico insists. "I'm very patient, I'll have you know." 

But then the boys clear off, and the crowd parts to make room for the next players. Rin glances between Hanayo and Nico, back and forth with her sharp little eyes, before she drops Hanayo's hand and grabs for Nico instead.

"I _know_ you want to play," Rin says, dragging Nico up to the pads. "So let's do it!" 

Nico really hadn't wanted to go to the arcade, not badly, and she definitely isn't desperate to dance and show off exactly how cute and coordinated she is when playing the game. But once she's up at the machine, it would be pointless to say no. And she can hardly turn down the opportunity to school her kouhai with her moves. 

"Fine," Nico says. "But you're going to lose." 

"Uh huh," Rin says, not batting a eye as she rotates through the song selection, picking out something extra up-tempo on the hardest difficulty. "Prove it!" 

" _Fine,_ " Nico says, and while even she struggles to keep up with the frenetic pace of the game, she thinks that maybe she does, and that maybe the invitation to come wasn't misplaced after all.

* * *  
* *  
*


	5. Maki/Rin :: Stargazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was: _"Remember when they went stargazing?"_

* * *

They're both breathless when they reach the top of the rise — Rin because she can never resist the challenge of a hill placed before her, Maki because the sky is clear and the stars are bright and somehow she's been caught up in the excitement, taking the hill just as fast. And besides, it was her idea to go stargazing in the first place.

"There are so many!" Rin calls back to her, the usual sharp peal of her voice gone soft-edged with wonder. "And they're so bright!" 

"It's because we're so far from the city," Maki says, taking the last couple of steps to stand beside Rin at the top of the crest. 

She lets her head tilt back, chin lifting until all she sees above her is the velvety black bowl of the heavens, strewn with spangles of light all shining at different intensities, cool and remote and breathtaking. Rin's hand is warm, when she reaches out to grab Maki's fingers. Maki doesn't say anything, simply squeezes Rin's hand back, her eyes fixed on the sky. 

"Thanks for inviting me out here, Maki-chan," Rin says.

She's never subtle, always charging ahead at full speed. The precious few instances when Rin really _thinks_ about the words coming out of her mouth are rarer than a shooting star, and nearly as marvelous. But standing beneath all the cosmos, tethered to the earth by Rin's stubborn grip and no longer as alone in the universe as she sometimes fears, Maki can't help but be grateful for Rin's company. 

Her family's cottage feels as vast as galaxies, when it's only Maki wandering through the many rooms. It's so much better, with Rin's boisterous energy there to fill it up. Warmer. Friendlier.

"I was glad you could come," Maki says, peeking away from the sky just enough to catch a glimpse of Rin's face. "I wanted to share this with somebody." 

"It's _wonderful,_ " Rin says, and Maki can feel her face flush.

She darts her eyes away again, back to the expanse of stars spread out before them. Back at home, she has a telescope set up on the balcony outside her room, from which she can zero in on any astronomical feature at will. There's a certain joy to it, to the meticulous focus of finding just the right patch of sky, to catching a particular planet or star so it alone hovers before her eyes. 

But there's a different joy to seeing all the stars at once, spread out before her in a tapestry of light. 

"I really like it," Maki whispers, under-selling the feeling by light years, by whole orders of magnitude. But her fingers squeeze Rin's uncommonly tight, holding on like she's afraid to let go. "It's my favorite thing in the world."

She's never expected anybody to really _get_ it, the way she feels about the stars. But with Rin's hand in hers, pressing joy into her fingers and pulling her in against Rin's side, she thinks she's gotten close enough.

* * *  
* *  
*


	6. Nico/Hanayo :: Wedding Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was, _"Remember when they danced together at a wedding?"_ (the wedding taking place is implied to be between Eli and Honoka, for reasons that are obvious to anyone familiar with the game.)

* * *

"Never really expected _them_ to get together, did you?" Nico asks, shooting a furtive glance past Hanayo's shoulder. Her gaze lands on someone across the room, and locks.

There's a sharpness to Nico's words, a pins and needles prickle like maybe it's her jealousy that's just then gone and woken up. Hanayo knows what she'll see, if she turns her head to look: the graceful curve of their friend's white-clad back, as she spins her blushing, laughing bride around the dance floor. The peal of those giggles is unmistakable from clear across the room. 

But she knows Nico, too, and doubts the other girl is half as put out as she seems. 

"I think it's nice," Hanayo says. "I think they make each other happy." 

She's decisive enough in her words that Nico doesn't say anything at all, allowing a hush to fall over them as they whirl around the dance floor. It gives Hanayo time to admire the clever movements of Nico's feet, never stepping too broadly, or too quickly, but instead keeping them perfectly in time with the waltz. Nico's eyes might be hard, but her hands on Hanayo are soft, deftly maneuvering her with only the lightest of presses against her back or the subtlest of pushes against her hand. 

"I never knew you could dance like this," Hanayo confides, into the quiet Nico has left open between them. 

"I've always been an incredible dancer," Nico huffs, glancing away to look off to one side. 

They dance another measure, and another measure more past that, neat sequences of steps that match the music exactly. Hanayo points out, gently, "That isn't what I meant." 

"I know," Nico says, a little too fast. "I know it's not what anybody expects. There's nothing cute about leading, when there's only one person following you! It's not cute without a stage, and an audience. There's nothing cute about this kind of dancing at all." 

"I think it's cute," Hanayo says. "I think you're very cute in your bridesmaid's dress. It compliments you really well." 

For a moment Nico holds herself strung taut as a bowstring, the tension in her shoulders winding tight beneath the palm of Hanayo's hand. For the first time that evening they lose the rhythm of the dance, falling out of time as Nico freezes for a single moment in the middle of the floor. It lasts only a measure — by the beginning of the next sequence Nico is back in action, moving just as cleanly as before. 

But she's looser, and even as the pink flush rises in her cheeks, a crooked little smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. "If it was anyone else saying that, I maybe wouldn't believe them. But since it's _you,_ I suppose I'll just have to accept the compliment." 

She's posturing, giving a little sniff, pretending at disdain. But Hanayo knows Nico, and would never mistake the subtle pleasure underlying her words for anything besides that simple truth. Nico is happy for her friends on their wedding day — she'd simply wanted someone to tell her that she was beautiful, too.

* * *  
* *  
*


	7. Umi/Rin :: Cohabitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was, _"Remember when they lived together after college?"_

* * *

It isn't possibly going to work, Umi thinks, when she first adds Rin onto her lease.

High school is long behind them, and gone with it are the days of boundless energy and bright-eyed gazing into the future. Rin as an adult is _different,_ less scattershot and impulsive, more sure of what she wants. Equally as intense as she's ever been. She won't take no for an answer and can always find the exact way to wheedle or press or push so she gets what she wants. She's a force of nature, pure and simple. 

She exasperates Umi to the moon and back but somehow she's never been able to implore Rin to _stop._ From the very first day they formed Lily White together, she's felt a helpless fondness for the other girl. 

Rin is someone who wormed her way into Umi's life with a determination that derailed all possibility of protest. When she grinned, Umi found herself smiling too. When she led, Umi found herself wanting to follow. Nozomi was the wind at her back and a steady hand on her arm, a guiding presence as good and warm as the sun reliably rising in the east. But Rin was the shooting star blazing before them, slicing through the sky and carrying Umi and Nozomi along to wherever she might fall. 

Rin is so many things Umi has always wanted to be, bold and decisive and unafraid. They're shadows and light, Umi careful and sure, Rin dynamic and flexible, coming together so that they balance each other out. It's why they work well together — in their subunit, on a shared stage, starting to date after that first, unexpected kiss that they'd shared. They work at two speeds, combine two approaches to ensure that _one_ of them always has another trick to try. 

But living together is different, and that they've never done. 

Umi is fastidious. Meticulous. Particular about every aspect of the keeping of her home. She pardons no dust and tolerates no mess, absolutely insisting on every object in its proper place and on having a place for every object that she cherishes, relishing in the perfect order that she's achieved. To disrupt her perfect system is tantamount to treason. It's as good as inviting the end of the world. 

Rin is chaos incarnate, larger than life, a star gone supernova and burning out of time. She cannot possibly fit.

But Umi adds her onto the lease anyway, unable to deny her and determined to keep her, clears out half of the closet and condenses everything so there's room in her drawers. She carves a space for Rin and throws open the doors, leaving Rin a breath in which to breeze in and take it. She settles into the bones of Umi's home like starlight and sunshine, fitting herself through all the cracks and filling the empty spaces up with her own personality. 

Umi had never noticed them before, those gaps and vacancies. She'd never realized there was more she could possibly want. But she builds Rin a place in her home and her heart and her bed, and somehow, it works just fine after all.

* * *  
* *  
*


	8. Maki/Hanayo :: Playing Nurse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was, _"Remember when Maki was sick so Hanayo came to her house and made her rice porridge?"_

* * *

"Maki-chan!" Hanayo exclaims, when she hears the tell-tale sound of gentle footfalls crossing the threshold into the kitchen.

Maki ducks her head, though whether it's contrition or merely the inability to keep her chin all the way raised out of weary, sickly exhaustion is difficult to say. She coughs a little, weak hacks from the back of her throat which are so thick with mucus that they stick inside her mouth, emerging only halfway-voiced. Hanayo's expression immediately softens. 

"You were supposed to stay in bed," she says. 

Maki pulls the blanket she has wrapped around herself tighter across her shoulders, her lips twisting into an unhappy frown. "I couldn't sleep," she says. "I just kept shaking." 

"Oh, Maki-chan..." Hanayo says. She wants to step forward and wrap the other girl in a hug, wants to rub slow circles into her back until the shivers stop. But Maki is still contagious, and she has bigger fish to fry. "At least sit down at the table." 

Maki's house is so large, Hanayo almost didn't know what to do with herself. The kitchen at her home is more of a nook than a room, sectioned off from the rest of the apartment only by an imagined, invisible divide. By comparison, Maki's kitchen is vast and endless, and the table Hanayo directs her to sit at is simply an island in the center of that, fringed by a few spindly-legged stools which are clustered about the counter for exactly that purpose.

Maki slides into one of them, and folds her arms onto the marble counter top. She slumps over onto them, expelling a wet, sticky sigh. 

"I'll be done in just a minute," Hanayo says. "Don't you worry. This is just the thing for sick people." 

The steam from the pan wafts over her face, moist and fragrant and sweet. Hanayo gives the porridge another couple of stirs for good measure, dragging the spoon thickly through the soft lumps of the rice. She lifts it, blows a few times onto its sticky contents to cool them, and then allows herself to take a taste. She smiles. 

"Just right!" she declares. 

It takes her a moment to find an ordinary bowl, scrounging one up only after opening several of the kitchen cabinets in order to peer inside. She dishes out a modest serving of the rice porridge — she doesn't want to give Maki _too_ much, when she's sick and her appetite isn't at its best — before sliding it onto the counter top beside Maki's arm. 

"Eat up, Maki-chan," she says, her voice so soft it's nearly a whisper. 

Maki pulls herself upright, slowly, laboriously, holding herself on her elbows even as she reaches for her spoon. She looks a mess, strands of her hair plastered to a forehead that's slick and shiny with sweat, her eyelids heavy and bags forming under her eyes. Even so, she smiles the smallest, straining smile when she sees Hanayo looking hopefully on. 

"I'll feel better soon," she says. "It's not as if you _had_ to worry over me. But... Thank you. I do... Really appreciate it." 

Maki lifts a bite of the porridge to her mouth, her expression shifting from tired sagging to subtle, weary pleasure. Her face softens, and her eyes drift closed. Hanayo can only just see the minute workings of her mouth. 

"It's really good," Maki admits, after she swallows. 

Hanayo breathes out, a slow exhale of a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She can perhaps accept that rice isn't a cure for _all_ the ails in the world, but when it comes to the physical ones, sometimes it's just the thing. She smiles back at Maki, a bit wider than before. 

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear. It'll keep your strength up, and you'll be better in no time."

* * *  
* *  
*


	9. Eli/Umi :: Small Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was, _"Remember when Eli picked up crocheting?"_

* * *

"Hold still," Eli says, one of her hands brushing past Umi's temple to tuck a lock of hair away behind her ear. Eli smiles, and Umi cannot help but give a smile of her own in turn.

"What is it?" Umi asks. "Do I have something in my hair?" 

"Not yet," Eli replies, the corners of her lips pulling up farther. "But I thought I might offer you a bit of styling. I've been working on a few new accessories, and this one would look lovely on you." 

Umi ducks her head, momentarily derailed by the compliment. When she meets Eli's gaze again, she nods, unable to refuse the gentle touch of the older girl's fingers where they cup against her cheek, where they fuss thoughtfully with her hair. Eli does have an eye for this sort of thing, and a stately elegance to her designs. If Eli is the one administering to her, she trusts that she will love seeing the results. 

"Of course," is what she says, then, "Should I—" 

"No, this is perfectly alright," Eli says, pulling herself to sit behind Umi's chair. "I can work with this just fine." 

Eli's hands are light, picking out strands of her hair, peeling away sections from the front to twist into slender ropes meeting just above the base of her neck. She can feel where Eli holds them, twisting something into her hair to fasten the twin tails together. Whatever it is, it's heavy against Umi's head — not prohibitively so, but it hangs with a weight that Umi cannot miss. 

"What is it?" she asks softly. "Can I see?" 

"I have a hand mirror," Eli says. "But, hmm, we may need to maneuver a bit more than that." 

Umi doesn't mind. She pushes herself up from her chair with her usual resolve, catching Eli's hand so that her fingers close around Eli's wrist. Eli laughs, and it's only then that Umi realizes she may have become hasty. 

"We can use the bathroom mirrors," Umi explains. "You should have shown me what you made before fastening it in place!" 

"Oh," Eli says. "I suppose I could have done that." 

Umi can't help but think that Eli has done things this way on _purpose._ But that makes no sense, and she pushes the thought from her mind. Her hand is still wrapped around Eli's wrist, Eli's other hand grabbing hold of her bag, before she pulls Eli down the hallway and into the deserted bathroom. The mirror is a broad stretch of silvered glass, reflecting back Umi's own serious face and Eli's smiling one where she stands just beside her.

Umi can see the tops of the hair twists pulling back from her temples, but other than that she doesn't look all that different from the front. 

"May I?" she asks Eli. 

"Allow me," Eli replies, holding up the hand mirror behind the back of Umi's head. 

Reflected in it, Umi can see the hair tie Eli has fashioned, from countless loops of deep blue thread. They're shot through with silver and gold, in an interlocking pattern used to build the band that wraps around Umi's hair to hold it in place. Dangling from it are little stars and shells in gold and white, constellations of the same tiny stitches that form every other part of the hairpiece. It's delicate, lovely, and just the sort of thing Umi _would_ willingly consent to wear. 

"How did you make it?" Umi wonders, one hand coming up to finger the accessory holding back her hair. 

"Sometimes beads haven't felt like the way to go," Eli says. "So I thought I should pick up some new techniques. Most of this one is crochet, although the elastic itself isn't." 

Umi touches the hair tie again, gently, flicking the little stars lightly with her fingers. She doesn't have to see her face in the mirror to know that she's smiling, she can feel it in her cheeks where they're just starting to ache. All of the stitches are so tiny — she can tell that Eli must have put a lot of time into the item's construction.

"Thank you," Umi says. 

"You're welcome," Eli replies, admitting, "I did make this one especially for you."

* * *  
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*


	10. Honoka/Eli :: Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was, _"Remember when Honoka messaged Eli saying she'd had a rough day at the studio, so Eli prepared a cute surprise before Honoka came home?"_

* * *

The kitchen timer chimes a warning, and Eli dusts her hands off on the apron tied around her waist. A peek inside the oven reveals smooth, golden-brown perfection, proof that Eli's baking efforts are turning out exactly as she had planned. For a last-minute effort, she can't help but feel more than a little bit proud.

The message she'd gotten from Honoka earlier that afternoon, after asking her girlfriend how recording on the new songs was going, had simply read " _i don't know, things are feeling a little rough :(_ " 

From anyone else, such an admission would not have been a big deal. Working with a recording studio was rough business, and sometimes the tracks that were put down didn't sound remotely the way you expected in your head. It was difficult, living up to practices you performed in other places, with other acoustics, with less pressure weighing down on you and demanding that you succeed. 

But from Honoka, the ever-cheery leader of high school sensation mu's, a group whose singles were still selling five years out from their retirement, even an " _I don't know_ " was reason for suspicion. If Honoka of all people wasn't excited about the fruits of her labor, more must be amiss than she would ever trouble herself to say.

Which is reason enough for Eli to begin baking, and preparing, and readying her own little surprise. 

The door creaks, swinging open more leisurely than it usually does when it's Honoka bursting into the apartment. Today she trudges, dropping her bag on the _hook,_ rather than just throwing it across the floor and kicking off her shoes. Her shoulders slump, and when she sees Eli standing in the kitchenette off to one side of the apartment's main living space, her smile is looking a little wan. 

"Honoka..." Eli says, fondness in her voice even as her brows furrow with the beginnings of concern. But then she straightens, squaring her shoulders and steeling her spine, and offers Honoka a warm, proud smile. "I have a surprise for you, and it's just coming out of the oven." 

Honoka perks up at that, head rising and eyes brightening. She looks more like her usual self, enough to allow Eli to relax. Honoka is already pushing into the kitchenette, trying to dodge around Eli and peer in through the oven's tiny, yellow-lit window. Eli catches her by the shoulder and steers her gently — but firmly — back the way she came. 

"Go sit down on the couch," Eli suggests instead. "And make yourself comfy. I'll bring you a snack in just a minute." 

Honoka's eyes narrow just a bit, squinting with her suspicions that her girlfriend is up to something. But she's the type to always assume the best, and after another moment, turns on her heel to flop down on the couch. There's an afghan laid across it, the soft one Eli's grandmother had made, which she doesn't take out often and which she knows Honoka adores. Even as she's taking the bread out of the oven, she can see out of the corner of her eye how Honoka starts to wrap herself up in the worn, cozy blanket. 

The little buns Eli has made are all shaped like puppies, fat faces with little globs for their ears, muzzles, and noses, raisins set into their domes to represent eyes. They aren't perfect, but each one has personality. Eli arranges a few on a plate, and brings them over to Honoka.

"Eli!!" Honoka wails, snatching the plate out of her girlfriend's hands so as to better stare down at it. "These are _super cute_ , did you make them yourself? Didn't you have work today, too? When did you have the time?"

"I've been home a little while already," Eli says, allowing herself to shrug. "I found the time." 

Honoka squints at her again, but doesn't question it. She picks one of the puppy buns up from the plate, carefully biting off one of the ears. The bread is still warm, and Honoka's face just _melts_ with pleasure as she chews. Eli turns away, hiding her smile with one hand. 

She has a good reason for hiding: her laptop has already been hooked up to the television, but she needs a moment to turn it on and to get the stream going. Honoka is still eating, murmuring and humming to herself in delight, and it takes her a moment to notice what's on the screen.

" _Puppies,_ " Honoka exclaims when it registers. "They're so fat — is this... It's that one puppy cam, with the little shiba inu babies, isn't it?" 

"It sounded like you may have had a difficult day," is what Eli says. "So I thought we could do something relaxing together to make up for it." 

She moves back to the couch, sliding onto the space next to Honoka. She's hardly given time to settle; Honoka immediately dives on her, the plate of bread shoved to one side, her arms thrown around Eli's neck. She squeezes Eli tightly enough that for a moment, Eli feels genuinely short of breath.

"You're the best," Honoka says, her face buried in Eli's shoulder and her words coming out muffled. "This is perfect." 

Eli wraps her arms, more sedately, around Honoka's shoulders in return. She pats her back with slow, soothing circles; though Honoka cannot see it, her lips are smiling. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted to do something just for you." 

"I love it," Honoka agrees. "I couldn't ask for anything better."

* * *  
* *  
*


	11. Maki/Hanayo :: Onigiri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt this fic was written from was, _"Remember when Hanayo was teaching everyone to make onigiri but she couldn't stop admiring Maki's hands?"_

* * *

"Kayo-chin," Rin calls out. "Mine looks a little squashed, how come something is wrong with it?"

Hanayo breathes out, a sound that's almost a sigh, albeit one more filled with fondness than exasperation. The other girls of mu's have more or less grasped the hang of making onigiri, which allows her to walk over to where Rin is squeezing her rice too tightly in order to give her a hand. 

"Loosen your grip," Hanayo suggests. "You aren't trying to grab the rice ball like it's a baseball you're about to throw. You have to treat the rice gently, when making onigiri." 

She places her hands over Rin's, re-positioning them subtly and moving _with_ Rin, as she makes another attempt at the motions Hanayo has taught all of them to use in shaping the rice. With Hanayo's help things go more smoothly, and Rin emerges with an onigiri that might be the littlest bit lopsided, but which isn't manhandled into too-compressed shapelessness, as her previous attempt had been.

"Better," Hanayo says, a smile in her voice. 

Rin flashes her a grin, and immediately moves on to the next. 

"Hanayo..." another voice says, this one a bit more reluctant in her calling. 

Maki never was nearly as pushy as Rin, far preferring to appear aloof and removed. Hanayo has never minded. It was something they've always had in common — needing a little bit of time to warm up, a little bit of time to get to know someone. Until that happened, neither of them could quite find their feet. 

"Are you having trouble?" Hanayo asks, moving over to the stretch of counter Maki has been working at. 

Her hands are wet, and her work station is neat and clean, but it appears as if her rice has hardly been touched, all of it still sitting in the bowl Hanayo had dished it into, when she was portioning out measures from the rice cooker so everyone could easily reach. It looks as if Maki has hardly tried at all. 

"I don't know if I can do this," Maki says. "It's just not the sort of thing I'm good at." 

"Anyone can make onigiri," Hanayo insists. "All you need to do is believe that, and to try." 

Maki looks at her skeptically, from behind the curtain of her hair where it's fallen in front of her face. But Hanayo only looks back, not having words enough to push Maki, but feeling very strongly that if Maki would only really try at it, making onigiri would come as naturally to her as everything else that she does. 

"Show me how you're making them," Hanayo suggests, patiently. "And I'll help you." 

Maki hesitates, her hands moving toward the bowl of rice but not quite reaching into it. Hanayo can see the slender dips of her wrists, white and pale as she bends them. Her fingers are slim and sure, the trademark of those flexible pianists hands. When they scoop up a measure of the rice, lone grains stick to them, dimpling Maki's palms with little rice-shaped indentations. 

"Hanayo?" Maki says. "What's the first step?" 

Hanayo shakes her head, clearing it, focusing her attention. She knows how to make onigiri backwards and forwards. But some things _are_ easier hands-on, and she can't help but remember what had worked for Rin.

"Let me help you," Hanayo says, reaching out to cover Maki's hands with her own. 

They work together, Hanayo guiding, Maki following. Hanayo murmurs the instructions into Maki's ear, giving her little cues and the occasional pointer on what to do next. They're standing very close together, with both their hands wrapped around the same ball of rice. It's warm. Cozy. They learn to move in time with each other before the first of Maki's onigiri is finished. 

When it's done, it's the perfect shape, plump and triangular and ready to be eaten. Maki's hands are still coated with a layer of stickiness from the rice — Hanayo feels it when she lets go of them. Somehow, she doesn't especially mind. 

"That isn't too bad, is it?" Maki asks, squinting down at the onigiri where she's set it on a plate.

"No," Hanayo says, though she's watching the way Maki's fingers straighten the plate so it sits just so, more than she's paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth. "It's not bad at all. I think you've gotten the hang of this!"

* * *  
* *  
*


	12. Eli/Maki :: Duet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet was written for bonus round six, and is a remix of [this beautiful art](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/13854.html?thread=5738526#cmt5738526).

* * *

"One more time," Maki says, her finger poised on the button to begin playing their music again from the top. 

Eli stands over her, sweat slicking her brow before she swipes the back of her hand across her face, cheeks likewise flushed from the exertion of dancing. They've practiced the song a dozen times already that afternoon, drilling the motion of the dance into their bodies through the sheer brute force of repetition. 

"I think we've practiced enough," Eli says. 

Maki looks up at her, mouth dropping open with a protest already formed on her tongue. But then she really gets a _look_ at Eli, expression soft-edged with sympathy, and her teeth come together with a dissatisfied clack, biting back the words she'd meant to say. 

"I just want to make sure everything is perfect," she says instead. "I still don't feel like it's perfect." 

"Sometimes that's just the way of things," Eli tells her. She stretches her arms once over her head, shaking out the aches in her muscles before she slides to the floor, back against the wall and legs stretched out before her. She tilts her head to the side, eyeing Maki crouched beside her. "No routine is ever perfect." 

"Maybe," Maki hedges. "But there are a lot of people who expect us to be perfect. When they come to one of our shows, they want to hear music that moves them, and dances that inspire them. I just... Want to make sure that I've given it my all, and if I give up in practice can I really say that I have?" 

Eli shakes her head, still smiling softly but so her mouth pulls up on one side. It's a more wry look than her usual, and Maki wraps her arms around her knees, pulling in on herself as if to protect her heart from any forthcoming criticism. Eli knows how to be harsh with dancers. She doesn't intend to be quite so rough with Maki, when she's feeling insecure. 

"Is there something else bothering you?" Eli asks. Her voice is gentle, soft. 

Maki looks away, staring to the side at the wall. It takes her a long moment, expression shifting subtly as she composes words in her head. "I guess it is different," she finally admits. "It's the first time I've done a duet like this. With you." 

At that, Eli's smile widens. "You're worried about letting me down, is that it?" 

Maki squeezes her arms tighter about her knees, and huffs, clutching to denial. "No, that's not, it's... I guess, maybe. You're a beautiful dancer. It's a lot to live up to." 

"You have a beautiful singing voice," Eli says, turning the compliment around. "I've always admired it. I love to sing, especially as a part of mu's, but I've never considered my singing to be on the same level as my dancing. It can't be; I've simply had much more training with one than the other." 

"But your singing is lovely," Maki protests. 

"So is your dancing," Eli says, with that same slightly crooked smile, the wry one that knows she's caught Maki out. "Together, I think we compliment each other quite well." 

It takes Maki a moment, but she relaxes, unfolding her legs and shifting to sit next to Eli along the wall. She doesn't say anything, but Eli can catch the meaning just fine without words: they have practiced enough, and they'll make a beautiful team performing their new live. 

She bumps her shoulder against Maki's. Maki bumps her back, and smiles.

* * *  
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*


	13. Maki/Rin/Hanayo :: Carrying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet is a remix of [this art](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/13854.html?thread=5320222#cmt5320222) by lovely friend Sarah.

* * *

A laugh sounds out in the empty room, the bubbling sort of giggle that could only be Rin. Maki is still a ways down the hall; she knows that Nozomi and Eli have student council duties to attend to, and Honoka needed to stay after class to make up an assignment that just wasn't up to par. With Umi and Kotori assigned school-cleaning duties, there's no reason to hurry to practice; most of Maki's friends will not be there.

There comes the scrape of desk legs against tile, the dull thumps of furniture being moved around. Rin's voice rises above it, with a delighted shout that breaks apart into more helpless giggles. Maki pauses where she stands; Rin is a tornado, a force of nature capable of dragging anyone in her path into whatever reckless folly she's dreamt up for some new excitement. 

Maki hesitates in the hall, because she isn't certain what Rin will drag her into _this_ time. 

But Maki is no coward, and even with the group's members decreased by half, she wants to get to practice. She's put together a new arrangement for one of the songs Umi has been working on lyrics for; it'll be a shame not to get the older girl's opinion on the music until later, but she's sure Nico will snatch it up to listen the moment she offers, and Rin and Hanayo always did have kind feedback for her. 

Maki steps through the doorway to the classroom they often practice in, and stops in her tracks. Hanayo stares back at her, wide-eyed and waiting, her arms wrapped around Rin's legs. Rin stares back at her, smooth-faced and unblinking, before her expression breaks apart into a grin. 

"Maki-chan!" Rin calls out, flailing in Hanayo's arms so that Hanayo almost drops her. "There you are!" 

"Rin!" Hanayo exclaims, arms tightening around Rin's thighs and eyes going wide with alarm. "Hold still, I told you I wouldn't be able to hold you up like this!"

"But you are!" Rin replies, momentarily forgetting Maki is present at all. "You're doing so good, Kayo-chin, you're so strong! I can't believe you can carry me." 

"Not for much longer, I can't," Hanayo says. "Rin, please, just let me... I'm—" 

Rin kicks her heels gently with her delight, as Hanayo fights off another round of nearly overbalancing. This time, she manages to set Rin back on her feet on the floor, straightening with a long, deep sigh. 

"Rin-chan!" she says. "You have to hold still, otherwise I'm going to drop you." 

"If you're busy," Maki cuts in, "it doesn't sound as if anyone else will be able to practice for at least an hour. I can leave you both to..." She waves her arm, encompassing the pushed-back desks circling the room (a fine arrangement for practicing isolated dance moves, though it's clear this isn't the reason Rin and Hanayo moved the desks) as well as her two friends standing before her. "...whatever this is." 

"Maki-chan, no!" Rin exclaims. She jumps forward, grabbing Maki by the arm and dragging her farther into the room. "We're not busy, come on, come on, didn't you have new music for us to listen to?" 

"Oh!" Hanayo says, leaning in at the promise of hearing Maki's new arrangement. "Did you finish what you were working on." 

Maki resists it, but she can feel her lips fighting to twist into a smile. "I did. Give me a minute to get the song going." 

Rin and Hanayo crowd around her, waiting as she pulls out her MP3 player and adjusts her headphones. The smile Maki was smothering blooms slow across her face; she has no idea what her two best friends were trying to accomplish but it feels exactly like them, playing around in the empty moments between class and their club. Maki wouldn't trade either of them, even Rin's silly antics, for the world.

* * *  
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*


	14. Nozomi/Nico :: Conquer the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet is a remix of [this lovely art](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/13854.html?thread=5668126#cmt5668126).

* * *

"This is a cute park, Nicocchi," Nozomi says.

The swing Nico is standing on creaks beneath her feet, rocking back and forth with her shifting weight as she pushes the swing into gentle motion. She doesn't look at Nozomi, not right away. Her face is tipped up toward the sky, illuminated by the street lights at the entrance to the park even as she gazes at the stars through a fine haze of light pollution. From the city, their tiny, twinkling lights appear very far away indeed. 

"I've never been here before," Nozomi continues, voice gentle, thoughtful. She isn't put off by Nico's silence; she's never been one to let anyone else put her at ill ease. "Is this someplace you used to play when you were a child." 

Nico shrugs, and glances back at her. "It's just a park, Nozomi." She rolls her eyes, but in the next moment regrets it, ducking her head before she makes herself smile. "It's a park that wasn't too far from either of us, and I knew if I asked you, you would definitely, definitely come." 

"For you," Nozomi says, mouth slowly smiling, "of course I would." 

Nico flushes, and pushes her embarrassment aside. Nozomi is always like that, teasing her and toying with her, pushing her into replies she hadn't meant to give, into responses that are more sincere than her usual pretty idol polish. Nozomi is someone genuine, someone whose goodness rings true all the way to her core. 

Nico can't say the same about herself. She isn't entirely certain that she wants to. 

"What did you want to talk to me about, Nicocchi?" Nozomi finally asks. 

Nico slips off her swing, dropping her feet to the ground and settling onto the seat instead. Her legs push idly forward and back and she waves to the swing beside her, inviting Nozomi to join her. The chains of the other swing rattle, as Nozomi settles against it. Nico resumes staring off before her, where it's safe, where Nozomi won't read more than she means simply by looking her in the eyes. 

"We're graduating soon," Nico says. "Really soon. And I know... We decided we'd put all of this behind us with graduation, but I'm not..." She shakes her head, frustrated, tense. The words stick in her throat, difficult to pry free. "I'm not ready to let go of what we've made together." 

"What all of us have made together?" Nozomi hazards. "Or something you've made yourself, for you alone?" 

"Isn't it the same thing?" Nico asks, shooting Nozomi a sharp little look. "Everything I've done has only been because of mu's. Don't think that I don't know that, Nozomi." 

She startles, just for a second, when Nozomi reaches out and takes her hand, curling fingers around where it's holding the chain for the swing. Her palm is soft against Nico's wrist, and warm. It's only as the tension drains out of Nico beneath Nozomi's soothCing, patient touch that she realizes quite how tightly she's gotten wound in the first place. 

"Are we going to split up?" Nico asks, very softly. "You, and me, and Eli?" 

Nozomi smiles, and shakes her head. "I wouldn't give either of you up for the world." 

Nico sighs, and swings her legs a little faster. She's starting to smile herself, relief seeping through her. "I wouldn't, either. And you know..." She hesitates, licking her lips, testing her words on her tongue. "...if we stay together, we could conquer the world. Just you and me." 

"You know," Nozomi says, voice warm, a laugh coursing beneath it in pleasing ripples, "I think we could."

* * *  
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*


End file.
